2014.03.14 - Keth'ren of Tamaran
Rain is doing her thing. No one really pays much mind to a woman riding a broomstick with a cooler tied on to the back. She's enjoying the slightly warmer weather, at least. She still has a near pathological hatred of pigeons. But she is duly bundled up, and so on and so forth. When suddenly, she sees - a meteor!? A meteor. Of course it's a freaking meteor. Just when she was getting home and planning on a quiet afternoon. At least, as quiet an afternoon at her occult-prone home. She watches its trajectory, eyes widening. "Oh geez." Pause. Wait. Rain's going to watch a moment. "Okay, so if it has a trail of light..." Leave it to the math nerd to try to figure out trajectory and velocity. School's out, and now that some things are settled, Robbie Baldwin realizes he has some time to kill. It's been months since he's been in New York, so it's with alight heart and a loaded subway card that he goes exploring. There's been lots of changes; new stores, new sights, and the destruction left in the wake of Darkseid's attack. Robbie tries to keep mental track of it all; he's living here again, so he sort of has to know. The flash of light above catches the young man's eye. Stars don't shine in the afternoon, Robbie thinks. Is that...falling? "Oh no," he says, looking around. "Not again." The fiery descent is far from something Ahk'ka'tom'bar really wants anything to do with. Rather, every fibre of the Martian's being is against coming anywhere near it. So instead, he hangs back. Currently wearing his "green Martian" appearance--rather like that of J'onn J'onzz, save for the fact that he's smaller, currently has black hair, and wears a trench coat over his "space suit." Looking up at the descending ship, the Martian extends his senses, reaching out with telekinesis to try to stir up some wind resistance that will help carry the ship to a safe landing in the Harbor. It's not much, but for now it's all he can do. Nico was just walking through the harbor. It's a shame all her walks end this way. As the flaming..thing begins to crash down above her, she's reacting quickly, grabbing her knife and slitting through her right wrist. At this point, the stub on her left arm is..having something miraculous happen to it, as an ornate gauntlet of sorts appears, creating her an artifical left arm. "The...hell?!" "«Now gaze upon what you have unleashed, Blu. Are you most pleased with yourself? I am not. The unpleasant natives are aware we are coming, now! Well, of course they are unpleasant. They cage their young, which fling poo at each other until maturity, upon which time they produce audio-visual recordings of their mating escapades and release them into the world. Does that sound pleasant to you?»" ... "«Well, you do not have nostrils, so there. Now will you please restore the thrusters to full capacity, or else I shall be most cross for the brief moment I continue to exist at landing.»" The young alien crosses his arms over his chest and... pouts at the AI. "«What do you wish to mean by saying that their you-... Thrusters, Blu. Restore them. Broken? Whyso did you break the thrusters!? Well I most certainly did not turn them off! We are the only two aboard, with Mother gone! No, she would not have turned them off when she left. We would have crashed immedia... Huh. Perhaps I should begin the process of evading the very large buildings I see in the distance...»" And with that, the odd little alien has grabbed ahold of the even odder control device, which appears to be something that needs at least six arms to operate properly... as evidenced by the fact that he's using arms and legs both to try and manipulate it, and still failing... "«What do you mean, I've gained weight!?»" The ship swerves slightly with the telekinetic interference, drifting almost lazily to redirect itself toward the Statue of Liberty... and the tourists. Honestly, why does anyone ever visit it, anymore? Because when the French give you a copper statue of a woman in a dress with a torch, YOU VISIT THAT STATUE. Seriously, riling up the French would ... um ... wait ... Okay, nevermind. But it is still a nice monument. Rain is blissfully unaware of the occupants of the incoming UFO making commentary on the human species. The violet-eyed witch boggles. Huh. "That is an unusual -" Pause. She's seen stranger. Then suddenly, it veers towards them. Rain has to scare off the tourists! But how? Well. Easy. GIANT ILLUSIONARY BIEBER! Cue collective shrieks and fleeing? The descending spacecraft can be seen from the harbor, as pedestrians walking nearby in the city proper start exclaiming and pointing to the thing in the sky coming down across the water. Robbie is watching along with them. Still, the crowd's focus on the UFO means Robbie can run forward a few steps and jump, landing on his stomach and activating his kinetic field with a SPROING!! Using the momentum from a few more bounces, Speedball starts a high arc across the watery gap between the harbor and Liberty Island. He's coming in for the downward arc on his long-distance bounce when the giant Illusionary Canadian appears, and Speedball lets out a slight gasp. His voice sounds like he's talking into a metal oil drum, and he can't take his eyes off the giant Bieber over the island. "Ohgodohgodohgod it's that nightmare again and the guidance counselor said it was just a subconscious divorce coping thing and ohgodohgodohgod." The Martian's eyes widen at the appearance of the illusion, but after a moment he seems to catch on. It's got no MIND. It's not strictly real. So he ignores it for now--except, damn, now he's going to have that song in his head for a week--and so instead he focuses on trying to urge the air currents toward the ship, aiming to gently steer it away from the island and toward the water. "«YOU COULD HELP!»" the panicked alien is now trying to grasp another lever with his teeth and failing miserably. "«Remind me, if we survive this, to discuss with mother the wisdom of installing this sort of yoke on the ship.»" Abandoning ship hasn't even entered his mind. One, that would be rude to Blu. Two, that would be rude to the people about to be smashed to bits by his flying rust bucket. Three... the hatch is stuck. The ship is falling faster now, the front of it glowing red hot as it begins to level off above the water, far enough away from the shore to avoid hitting buildings... But Lady Liberty is ever a lightning rod for trouble, and dispite Keth'ren's efforts, he just can't seem to land the ship on his own. Then, Nico is casting the staff from her chest, as she floats upwards. "When blood is shed, let the Staff of One emerge!" The staff appears in her right hand, as she..spots giant Justin Bieber. "Oh no oh nonononoononnononononononononononono." Whilst she's still trying to stop the ship, she's flying away from the Bieber if possible. There's a crack of lightning and a deep roll of thunder as the sky darkens omniously. The lightning bolt falshes behind the Bieber's head, seeming to ignite his eyes, giving the Canadian a slightly demonic glow. Yes. Justin Bieber is now the anti-Christ. A high wind kicks up out of no where as Thor tornado-launches himself into the area. Those poor air currents! They twist and fold to Thor's will as his lightning filled eyes survey the situation. This? This is what Midgard called him for? He had stopped by the apartment to grab a quick something before returning to Asgard and Sif's side... and Midgard called him for this? All sorts of things are happening in Asgard right now, soul's being ripped from their final rest and now... troll dung alien tech is falling on New York City... And there's someone inside. His God Senses drawn him toward that source of panic, this new Midgardian Hero. She will need thee, Hero. Whole and unbroken. So, Thor, God of Thunder, flies toward the ship. Leveling off? Bad. Nose down, better. At least, in Thor's mind. He flies above the ship, then drops, like a rock, seeking ot impact feet first on that glowing red nose, to drive it into the water, both to cool it and to furhter slow its momentum into the bay. As he stands on the hood of the ship, flinging Mjolnir down at his feet to cement home to this flying metal monstrosity that it shall no longer fly, Thor looks up at the alien beyond the windows, and moves. A short hop charge has Thor bringing his right arm back in a punch that looks like he plans to put his fist through the window and just sardine can open the spacecraft. What? He's trying to rescue the alien from the evil Justin Bieber giant behind him. Right? Weather in this hemisphere just isn't gonna be the same for at least a week. Flailing, Keth'ren crooks an elbow on one lever, only to reach for another... And go flying to splatter into the viewport when the nose of the ship suddenly takes a dive and brakes, drastically. And breaks, drastically, too. The nose of the ship actually flies off, dropping into the harbor like the space debris it seems to be made of... and a few moments later the Tamaranean joins it, shrieking the entire way as he skips once, twice, three, four... FIVE times off the water before dropping beneath the sudden waves. Well. Not a very good windshield, is it? For those near enough, the AI's final message of 'Told You' can be seen, flashing through a variety of languages, including English. The ship is down, swiftly sinking into the harbor. But where is its sole occupant, pilot and engineer? Poor Speedball. Poor people. Rain hates to do it. She really does. But sometimes humanity needs to be nudged away. And sometimes that involves a soul-rending horror. She really is trying to be humane about it. Although, that bears the question of why someone so shy and loathing of violence is - well, you know. Once the tourists are dispersed, the Bieber winks, spins on one foot and disappears for now. Rain has bought them time and space. "Wait!" That's a Thor! Rain emerges from her hiding place near the statue, and waves. "Are they okay?" Rain looks owrried. At this velocity and the angle, Speedball is heading right for the giant Bieber. And he can't stop. He's headed right for it. Speedball curls up, ready to bounce off, and it might look like a fetal position from the right angles. "No no no tacky tattoos baggy pants around knees can never unsee ohgod," he mutters, just before he smacls into the illusory face. Solid illusion. Add another three months of therapy for Speedball. Heading down to the water via rebound, Speedball's eyes narrow just a little as he espies the God of Thunder. A frown crosses his features as he bounces in the direction of the fallen spaceship. Unfortunately, he cannot bounce on water, so he enters the bay with a splash. "Nonononononononononononononononon- oh it stopped.". Nico's still freaking out about the malicious popstar, before it disappears, causing her to divert her minimal flight back to the ship....is that Thor? The Martian lifts lightly into the air, shooting forward over the water, and reaches out with his telekinesis to catch the fallen alien and, heedless of any danger, levitate the fallen pilot up and into his arms protectively. (That's how the heroes do it, right?) Having just made his first real appearance on the scene, he does bear an immediate resemblance to J'onn J'onzz--only a bit smaller. And with hair. With the ship ripping open under his hands and the boy falling out of it into the water below, Thor summons Mjolnir to his hand. There's the sound of twisting metal as the relic flies to his hand, and the Thunderer spares a heartbeat to ensure the ship won't take out that statue the mortals love so before using a sudden funnel cloud to yank himself up into the sky once more. Blue-white eyes, crackling with electricity and power, Thor hovers for a moment to survey the area, sensing out for further threats or anyone in need to assistance... and the small J'onn catches his eye. "J'onn," says Thor to the Martian, completely misrecognizing the martian. Mjolnir's runes glow and a happy little tune starts to chirp from the lather pouch at Thor's belt: o/~ Everybody, everybody, everybody wants to be a cat!o/~ Thor blinks, as if surprised, and he glances around for the source of the ringtone. Down into the water goes the Tamaranean... only to slingshot up into a strange green man's arms. Keth'ren shrieks and begins to flail immediately, trying to squirm his way free while shouting in an entirely alien tongue that likely makes no sense to anyone. His voice is panicked, and he gestures back to the water in an attempt to explain his concern... but language fails utterly when Thor's belt begins singing. "... «Why is her groin singing?»" Rain boggles, from her broomstick perch. With no answer as to the ship's occupants' health, she comes in closer to Thor and his singing groin. But fortunately, Rain has magic on demand. It takes her a moment and she looks completely zonked, which might be hilarious. But happily, anyone within a few meter of Rain will soon understand and reply to Keth. It's one of her better spells, aside from the newting thing. Newting always seems popular. She waves to Thor. «Hi! Try this! I found an alien gentleman before, it helps,» Pause. «Um. Welcome to Earth! Who might you be?» Remembering a friendly space Canadian's advice, Rain greets the alien fellow rather than getting mean. And oh my. Still surrounded by his field of multicolored bubbles, Speedball breaks the surface of the water, about a dozen yards away from where the ship was. So, he's a witness, and not the closest one, to the rescue of the golden-skinned humanoid from the drink, and the rending of the ship by Thor. His eyes widen a touch, and he slowly, keeping his eyes on the scene in front of him, starts paddling backwards. Nobody here but is folks in bright costumes with bubbles. Nothing to see here. Nico lands next to Rain and the alien and the Asgardian. "Wait, you're the chick with the dragon and the magic basement, right?". Nico inquires to Rain, before turning to Keth. "Yo. Alien dude. Why do you attack us with..giant evil illusions? HUH?" The Martian responds with non-invasive telepathic communication, |"Please remain calm. We can see to your ship's salvage in due course, but for now let us be certain no one is harmed."| He lifts slowly into the air, attempting to keep Keth'ren from falling into the water. And, glancing to Thor, he adds, |"I believe that is Thor's communication alert tone."| Thor pulls his cell phone free from its holder, taps the screen with a thumb, and commands the person onthe other end to "Speak." There's a pause. Then, ""Potentially. There are some I should ensure are safe prior to flying to thy side. If thou wouldst kindly give me a moment?" Not that Thor gives whomever is on the other line a chance to answer, mind. For he simply presses the phone at Rain, rumbling, "HOld this for a moment, please my Brother's Apprentice." And then he unceremoniously flies down and scoops Speedball up from the water. Not by the scruff of the neck. Arm around midsection. It's a bit more dignified. Marginally. Hoverig there, he clips Mjolnir to his belt and holds out his hand for his phone again. "Say what else needs done, Mortals. There are other things I must attend to this eve," Thor rumbles, eyes still crackling with electricity. (Green-obvious-alien with telepathic capabilities, probably not a good choice. Too much potential for scrambling, likely cause some sort of stroke from trying to reconfigure for telepathy! Tiny-human-floating-in-water. Not a good choice. Too puny, might snap. Two apparently-frail-males-who-need-more-food. Also might snap. And then there's Goldilocks. Why are humans all so scrawny!?) So go Keth'ren's thoughts, as he looks from person to person in frustration. While Rain's spell apparently works, because Keth'ren's glowing, pupil-and-iris-less eyes seem to focus on her and brighten for a moment, that just adds to the difficulty. Finally, with a sigh, he launches himself at Thor, squirming out of the Martian's arms and Thor's outstretched hand is grabbed, before the scrawny Tamaranean locks lips quite forcefully with the God of Thunder, both hands clenched in the Asgardian's hair. Rain is pretty scrawny. She's a violet-eyed engineer-witch. She smiles politely, waving to the alien. Welcome to -- OH MY. Her eyes widen and she turns red watching the God and alien. «Ah! He's married, sir!» Monogamous pair mating ritual! Rain shudders to think of a grumpy Sif! Then again, Rain is really a big weenie. She looks to nico and headtilts. "Nemi is a dinosaur. And yeah, that's me. Hello. Um, do you mean the Bieber illusion?" So, if a Speedball starts back-paddling away from the scene at two miles-per-hour, and a Thor starts forty feet away flying to grab him at holy-crap-he's-fast-per-hour, how much time will it take for the Asgardian Thunder God to catch up with-Oh Hell he's already here and oh no no no. Luckily, Speedball is a little soaked since his dip, so if he starts sweating no one will notice. The sound of the wind rushing by his ears is only beaten by his perception of the souns of his knees knocking together. "Ohnoohnoohno," he says, before he tries to twist around and push himself out of Thor's hold. "Let me go let me go!" he says. "You won't take me, and-!" he's cut off when Keth'ren swoops in for the Thor smooches. Speedball looks shocked, and a little off-put by the kiss Thor's getting. But not for the reason some would think. "Dude, he's married," Robbie says. He was at the wedding; he would know! "...This is too much for me. Thor has it handled.". Nico's flying off rapidly, not even replying to Rain. THIS IS TOO MUCH CRAZY FOR HER. Thor was expecting cell phone, not alien hand. So startled, Thor turns to look at the person to whom the hand belongs. His lips part to speak... which is SUCH poor timing on his part as it grants Keth the opening he needs to latch on and take his tongue. No, really. Literally. And figuratively. And... this is... odd. More odd if you count the fact that Thor's eyes stay open through one full blink before Thor very slowly, very dilberately, and very carefully brings a hand up to grap at Keth's lower jaw and use it to proy the Tamaranian tongue sucker (hahaha!) away from his mouth. Only once Thor has a hold of Keth at arm's length does the Thunderer's eyes narrow dangerously. Static electricity dances along his skin, which is unpleasant for anyone in physical contact with the Norse God. "You're welcome, Mortal, but this manner of thanks are not needed. I must leave thee now," and with that Thor hands people off, collects his phone, and flies away... while talking. HEY! Don't txt and...fly! Or something. The witch is - concerned by all of this. But she's polite. Rain tilts her head. «That was Thor. He's a god of Thunder. Welcome to Earth, by the by! I am Rain. I have contacts around if you need anything. But I have to make a delivery. Be well and stay safe.» She waves to the remaining people. No wonder she had a cooler tied to the back of her broomstick. As Thor drops Keth'ren and Rain departs, the Martian extends a telekinetic field to keep the newcomer from dropping into the Harbor. |"Apologies for the--abruptness--friend, but that is an uncustomary greeting on this world. Such kissing is a gesture of extreme intimacy, and Thor--that gentleman you kissed--is pledged by marriage to his lady, Sif."| He gestures toward the shore of Liberty Island as if to say, 'Shall we?' ... Well, that didn't work. A stream of Old Norse escapes Keth'ren's lips, before he blinks in confusion and shakes his head, looking extremely frustrated now as he looks between Rain and the Martian, gesturing as she did a moment ago, with a wave. He was in no danger of falling, however, having absolutely no weight in the air. "«I... That was a male?»" Blink. Blink. Bluuuush. "«Please to extend my apologies to him? Among my people, the females are... Thor. But... almost my color. Sort of.»" He starts thinking, REALLY LOUD, at the Martian, attempting to project an image of his mother, or one of the other Tamaranean women he's seen. October raises one eyebrow, sighs slightly, and then nods. |"Correct. Thor is male. It is an easy mistake to make, however. Humans have very static features that can lead to confusion at times."| He winces a bit, adding, |"Your thoughts are... forceful. Might you attempt to think... more quietly?"| He floats toward the shore to touch down, offering Keth a telekinetic "path" to follow if he needs one, though not attempting to drag him along. "«WHAT?»" Ahem. He follows along curiously, though he looks quite wary. "«We should probably be leaving, human media has led me to understand that they are quite violent when aliens land!»" Keth looks quite concerned about this, tugging on the sleeves of his jacket... |"A fair point,"| October says. Lifting into the air, he asks, |"Can you fly unaided? Else, I can lift you. However, perhaps a more... neutral location is called for. We are not... subtle in our appearance."| He glances around, eyes scanning the skyline, as if considering their options. Keth'ren nods vigorously, and twirls through the air a few times under his own power, as if to back up this assertation. «"That was not a greeting, also. Not that it is an inappropriate greeting. My species absorbs languages with skin to skin contact..."» Keth'ren smiles vibrantly, and rattles off another phrase in Old Norse, which seems to sound almost as aggressive as his PREVIOUS language. Nodding to this, though warily, October explains, |"That would not likely avail you much in my case, then. My native tongue requires an apparatus beyond the vocal. Most species lack the correct neurology."| He gestures to the east, then, and says, |"If you will follow me, I do not live far from here."| And he begins to fly off toward the city proper. Logfile from October. October leads Keth to a nondescript brownstone office building in Brooklyn, and rather than use the front door he lets them in through the window. Stepping inside, the Martian says, |"Welcome. This is my residence. You may recuperate here as long as you have need to."| Keth'ren allows himself to be led along without much concern. Strange alien leading him somewhere? Clearly, it'll be fine! Keth follows along through the air easily, reveling in his flight, something he doesn't get to do much of whilst aboard his ship. "«You are most gracious... You... are not human, either?»" the young alien asks, floating through the window with ease, and remaining airborn despite a floor right beneath his bare feet. Smiling, the Martian nods. |"That is correct. Green is not typically a human skin color, though in cases of some genetic patterns--usually mutations--it has been known to happen. I am of Mars, a world now long dead."| His smile turns wistful, and he sits down in one of the armchairs. They've emerged into the rear half of the office, behind the curtain. |"I am able to assume a human appearance, which I will do if that does not alarm you."| "«You are most welcome to return to whichever form you most prefer.»" Keth'ren glances at the chairs in confusion for a moment, before sitting as well. "«Were I a shapeshifter, I would blend seamlessly into human society as well.»" Er... not really. October nods, and his form unceremoniously shrinks to smaller proportions. His skin going to a fair, tanned shade, and his hair grows longer, his features more delicate. His eyes fade from full, glowing red to deep brown. His clothing becomes a sort of "Bohemian hipster" ensemble, the sort typical of many twenty-somethings. He flashes a grin--quite wide and bright in this human shape--and says, |"So, you learn to communicate through tactile pschometric telepathy? Perhaps I can find a human willing to teach you English in that fashion."| Keth'ren watches the transformation in fascination. "«Psychic molecular control?»" He asks, eyes narrowing as he peers closer at October, rising from the chair to indelicately poke one cheek in curiosity. "«Is this form male... or female? Humans are so odd... And... it only works for me when the target is startled. My mother is capable of absorbing language with touch. I must surprise the subject or it will not work. I am under the belief that it lowers their mental defenses. This is why I kissed she, rather, HE who is Thor.»" Humans. So weird. Nodding, October says, |"An essentially accurate description, yes. It's a kind of applied psychokinesis."| The poke at his cheek makes him grin again, laughing lightly, and he explains, |"I customarily take a male shape, as that is my preferred mode of gender expression. Though, I have explored being physiologically female and it is also quite an interesting experience."| He nods slowly at the description of the language learning methodology. |"We will have to find someone who does not mind surprises, then. It should not prove too difficult."| If nothing else, there are certain clubs.... Keth'ren eyes October now, a bit suspicious. "«Why are you helping me?»" The alien asks, glancing out the window. They're probably taking his poor ship by now, and Blu with it. "«The human media says that humans don't like aliens overmuch, and I would likely be captured and dissected, with my technology confiscated for human study...»" Blinking at that, October says, |"Some humans might wish to, but the law does not allow such things. Ever since Superman became widely known as an alien, we have been more accepted here. Humans were much more afraid of us before they knew we were real."| He grins a bit. |"Ironic, isn't it?"| He continues thoughtfully, |"We can return later, when things are quiet, and attempt to salvage your ship. I have a means that may help us do so."| "«They have laws?»" Huh. He really needs to learn Earthian, already! He glances around the room now, plainly curious. "«What's a Superman?»" Keth'ren floats toward the ceiling, not quite poking it. "«Interesting... Pigmentation inside the dwelling to resemble an Earth sky?»" He lands, quite suddenly, then begins examining the floors. "«Dismembered corpses of vegetation laid in a staggered pattern to present a pleasant visual surface along with a sturdier structures!»" He laughs, now, before rising. "«They weren't sentient plants, were they?»" He looks suddenly horrified. Shaking his head, October says, |"I believe they are made of oak, which is a non-sentient variety of local flora. The room is pleasing to me, but I did not make it as it is. I purchased it this way."| Rising, he steps over to the kitchen to begin making tea. |"As to Superman, he is a powerful defender of this world, though he was native to the planet Krypton."| Keth'ren smiles, "«It is a most pleasant space, now that you assure me I am not walking upon sentient corpses.»" His bare toes wriggle on the hardwood briefly before he follows October into the kitchen curiously. Keth's brow furrows. Krypton, Krypto-... Oh. Huh. "«But... Kryptonians are extinct. They died out approximately... twenty to forty Earth-Years ago, give or take a decade due to light-speed travel. There were no survivors.»" He seems quite certain, but not particularly bothered. "«Are you... pouring near gaseous water onto dehydrated leaves?»" His nose wrinkles in confusion. |"I am, yes,"| October confirms, pouring the heated water into the teapot. He closes the lid, leaving it to steep. |"It is a fairly popular Earth beverage."| He arranges a few items on the counter, taking them from cupboards--sugar, honey--and the refrigerator--lemon, milk--before looking back to Keth'ren thoughtfully. |"As to Kryptonians, I believe there were survivors. I have not confirmed it, but Superman at least claims to be, and there have been others as well, I believe."| The lemon is picked up curiously and sniffed, before being set back down thoughtfully. "«A most curious but pleasant odor.»" He notes, having accepted the explanation of the odd beverage without a second thought. "«I must meet this Superman at some point, then. I should very much like to study his genetic code. Stories are told on my homeworld of a Daxamite... or a Kryptonian... who defended our homeworld from invasion, once. They are genetically similar...»" The alien bends forward to examine the other items on the countertop, his discussion of Krypto-Daxamite genetics utterly forgotten. "«Are these items for devouring, or for the beverage?»" Grinning wider than ever, October says, |"Superman can often be reached care of the Daily Planet, I believe. You might try there, once you've settled in. The story sounds quite interesting, though I know little of genetics. I'm certain Superman would have more to tell you."| Nodding to the lineup of items on the counter, he explains, |"These are traditionally used to add flavor to the tea. Some prefer it more sour, others more sweet, while some enjoy the particular effect of adding milk."| He gestures to each item in turn, illustrating how the container operates by adding a bit to a mug he's taken from a hook beneath the cabinets. "«The flesh-toned pinched oblong smells most pleasant indeed.»" Keth'ren notes absently... before his attention is taken up entirely with the cabinet, ever so briefly. Ever curious, he rises from the ground to examine it thoughtfully, before returning to the floor. He's plainly fascinated by the most mundane things. While his eyes are more a glowing energy field than visible structure, one can sense the way they focus in on seemingly random details in the structure of the cabinet for several moments, almost as if he's formulating how he could build something of that type on his own. In fact, he probably is. "«I have just realized that I have not disclosed the name by which I am referred to. I am Keth'ren of Tamaran.»" |"Pleased to meet you, Keth'ren. I am Ahk'ka'tom'bar O'mad'katom, originally of Mars--and I have traveled many places since then. On this world, I am known more simply, as October Macadam. It is customary in this local culture to use either the first name--October in my case, usually--or the last name with an honorific, such as 'Mr. Macadam.'"| He leans against the counter, waiting for the tea to finish steeping, and watches Keth with a kind of quiet amusement. He can certainly relate with being fascinated by a new world, and he finds the whole routine quite endearing. "«I am most pleased to meet you, as well, October.»" Keth'ren runs his hand along the counter, brow furrowing again slightly as he takes in information that one can only get with, well, touch. "«Interesting. Earth has more than one culture? My brief studies tended to show a homogenous culture obsessed with mostly tamed, four-legged, short eared carnivorous creatures.»" Well... he definitely had access to the internet, briefly. |"It is true that the Internet, Earth's global communication network, can be somewhat one-sided,"| October admits, and then he lifts the teapot, pouring two mostly full mugs. He takes a small squeeze of lemon for himself, gesturing for Keth to add what he likes to the--predictably, green--tea. October then sits back down, cradling the mug. |"But Earth has many, many cultures. It is far more complex than is evident at first glance."| "«Internet. Yes, I suppose it would be called that sort of thing.»" The various items are examined thoughtfully, before Keth'ren tastes the tea, curiously... and then the sugar, and then the milk, which earns a faintly wrinkled nose, and then the lemon... Upon which the entire wedge of lemon disappears into his mouth, to be chewed vigorously. "«Delicious!»" he expounds around a mouthful, before swallowing. "«If all Earth food is as pleasant as that, I think I shall like it here until mother returns!»" he adds several scoops of sugar to his tea, before returning to sit across from October. "«Many thanks for sharing your bounty. My species can survive on sunlight alone for a time, but it is not the most pleasant of circumstances.»" This draws a chuckle from October, who nods his agreement. |"Yes, Earth food can be very nice, indeed. I have a weakness for a certain local sweet called an 'Oreo cookie,' myself. Apparently, my species tends to find them addictive, though, so I try not to indulge too often. But I'm fairly sure lemons are harmless."| He slips his tea thoughtfully, considering what Keth has said, and then asks politely, |"You mentioned your mother? Did she send you here?"| There's a very strong mental image of Keth'ren's mother, for a moment, before he begins to speak. Very tall, muscular and curvacious, short cropped curly hair and large green eyes. A plasma rifle strapped across her back, and some sort of gun-like weapon on her hip. "«My mother is a freedom fighter. She was taken slave on a distant world and staged a revolution. My father, who I have never met, apparently died during the battle. Except a few Earth rotations ago, we received a distress call from him. She did not want me to hinder her in the possible fight, or put me at risk, and so she left me with Blu in orbit here. I'm not very strong, and I am not a warrior like my mother.»" Keth'ren shrugs and smiles. "«She will return with my father, if he lives. I believe I convinced Blu to transmit a distress call shortly before we crashed... though I am unsure. Blu is a very stubborn AI.»" October sets his tea down on the table, coasters already near to hand, and leans forward a bit in his chair. |"I hope she's successful and that your father is well,"| he offers, his thoughts resonating with unfiltered concern. He offers a smile, rather thinner this time, and says, |"You can stay here as long as you need to--local currency is required to obtain shelter here except for the most basic of options, and those offer little security or privacy."| "«I hope so as well. Though mother describes him as weak, she was very much in love with him when he was alive. Er, before his return. Do people on Earth often return from the dead?»" Well, that's a can of worms... "«What is currency for this area? On one world, breath was currency... on another, water. A third... bodily organs. We left swiftly without refueling.»" October nods to Keth's description of his parents' affections, and he groans with sympathy at the description of varied currencies. |"I knew of a place that dealt strictly in live juvenile felines as currency. I suspect one of them may have been responsible for Earth's Internet."| He toys lightly with his mug, continuing, |"Here they use a money called 'dollars,' which are usually represented by specific patterns printed on special types of paper."| He pauses, reaches into his pocket, and then produces a dollar bill, which he sets down on the table in front of Keth'ren. "«... Is it edible?»" Keth'ren picks it up, examining the dollar bill curiously. «"What is its worth? Does it... do something?"» Humans are so weird. Trading bits of paper for services... Keth sets the dollar bill down after a few moments. "«There is a strip inside it displaying characters, and these characters on the corners are... shiny?»" Huh. He shakes his head, then sips his tea with obvious pleasure. The sugar, it seems, has melted. October shakes his head. |"Their money is not worth anything except as a symbol. It represents the concept of value. And humans trade heavily in concepts, which are in turn a medium of exchange for various services, data, or raw materials."| He shakes his head. |"Their world suffers, sadly, for their recklessness, but I have hope that they are learning wisdom from past mistakes."| "«Well... they got this beverage right, at least. And the flesh-fruit.»" Keth'ren sips his tea once more, looking sublimely happy. It doesn't take much to please him, it seems. Of course, from the little he's said, most of his life has been traveling and exploration, so... Sitting still is probably making him happy, too! |"Once you finish your tea,"| October suggests, |"perhaps we can go visit a place where you can surprise someone and they won't be too upset. I know a nice social gathering place where such greetings are--well, surprising but not usually considered rude."| He smiles, sipping at his tea, and tries to imagine what exactly the reaction to Keth at the neighborhood gay bar might be. Somehow, he has the feeling this will entail keeping quite a close eye on the enthusiastic little extraterrestrial. Keth'ren laughs. "«Mother says on Tamaran such a greeting is usually returned in kind. Humans are... prudish, I believe is the politer term for what she says.»" He shrugs a little, taking another sip of tea. His clothing, as well as his general appearance, will definitely make him stand out. Barefoot, but wearing what appears to be black leatherish space-pants and a three-sizes-too-large jacket in matching material with bright red stripes across the shoulders. Unable to keep the grin from resurfacing, October sets down his empty tea mug and says, |"Believe me, humans are much less prudish at the place I'm thinking of. You'll have to be careful not to let them be too forward with you. It is a place where humans go to consume inhibition-lowering beverages and to solicit one another for intimate physical pleasure."| He shrugs a bit. |"Your greeting would certainly be a surprise, but I think most would welcome it."| Keth'ren nods thoughtfully. "«It is just that on Tamaran... 'intimate physical pleasure' is something that is wholly embraced. There are no special places for it.»" Not that Keth, personally knows, judging by the way his cheeks seem to color, a distinctly human response to the topic. "«Still. I should like to visit this house of pleasures and see what it is that humans consider so taboo that they must build special establishments for it!»" Hooboy. Holding up a hand, October says, |"Actually, wait. Before we go anywhere, I should ask--how old are you, exactly? They have laws here that you must be of legal adult age, which is eighteen full solar rotations here, before you can visit such places, even during the day time."| He's just suddenly been struck with a fear of corrupting the poor alien boy's innocence. "«Er...»" His brow furrows with thought, "«I believe I am approximately sixteen solar rotations in Earth time. I have reached full physical maturity and shall remain looking like this for many years, until old age sets in, upon which time I shall likely begin shrinking and losing pigmentation while my skin gives way to gravity slowly. But with my father's species unknown to us...»" He shrugs. "«It is possible that I will die tomorrow... or in a thousand Earth rotations.»" Reaching up to rub his forehead, October says, |"Well, maybe we'll go to a slightly different venue, just because I'm not entirely sure what the local laws would say on the subject, and I don't want to get anyone in trouble. I know a slightly, um... younger place. It's got an unofficial function that's similar. They call it a 'hook up' spot. But they serve milder beverages and the behavior is a bit more, um. Restrained."| He stands, taking his mug to the sink to wash it off. Keth'ren finishes off his own tea, and rises to follow October into the kitchen once again. "«... We are using hooks to catch potential mates, then? This seems more violent than most Earth customs I have seen...»" His tongue darts out briefly, disturbingly long, to clear the last bit of sugar out of the bottom of the mug, before he smiles. "«The crystalized energy is delicious.»" Chuckling, October holds out a hand for Keth'ren to give him the mug for washing. |"It's merely a metaphor. To 'hook up' means to join together, most often in pairs, for pleasurable intimate activities of one variety or another. There are many varieties and nuances to human relationships, I have found."| The Tamaranean offers the mug after a moment's confusion, before smiling, "«Ahhh... so casual romantic entanglement, rather than permanent. This makes sense, I suppose.»" He shrugs slightly. Humans are weird. October washes the second mug, nodding, and says, |"Correct! Since more casual contact is all we need, this seems the wisest course. We can head that way soon, and then you'll at least be able to communicate freely with the local population."| "«So I shall need to find someone with which to casually entangle myself in a manner that does not upset them greatly... If only there was a form of technology for such an act!»" Keth's expression becomes thoughtful, and should October do more than glance at his surface thoughts, which are whirling and chaotic... the little alien might be programming a Galatic Hook Up App in his odd little noggin. October says, |"There... are such methods, but you would have difficulty utilizing them at this point. They have limits."| He does his best to avert his mental gaze, neither wanting to be a party to inter-species meat marketing nor to rain on Keth's parade. He turns, having gotten the dishes taken care of. |"Shall we, ah... go and see if a willing party presents itself?"| "«I do not see why we should not do so.»" Waitwut. Keth'ren smiles, feet a few inches off the floor still, contentedly hovering. Not weird at all. Nothing to see here, fellow humans! His head tilts slightly to one side. "«Where shall we be going?»" |"I am, to be honest, unsure."| October heads for the front door, unlocking it and gesturing outside. |"I suppose we will begin by looking for a location with the appropriate sort of, uh... subject."| He ushers Keth outside, then, and locks up the office after them. Keth'ren glances around outside the office for several moments, before he firmly places his bare feet upon the ground and begins walking. See, he's completely normal, humans. He still hasn't completely gotten over the fear of having to make a bicycle fly to escape dismemberment, apparently. Glancing at October, then at himself, he frowns... and pulls out a pair of shoes from one of his jacket's many pockets, slipping them on and pulling up... and up... until they become boots that match the rest of his odd attire. October, dressed a bit more normally but still of a fairly quirky appearance, follows Keth'ren inside. Of course, it's New York. Nobody's going to even bat an eyelash, probably. As they enter, October steps up to the ordering counter. "Ah, hello. I wonder if I could order two small pizzas. One half cheese, half pepperoni. One half vegetarian, half combo." He glances at Keth thoughtfully. "And actually, let's make that two large pizzas, please." He keeps an eye on his fellow offworlder, wondering what Keth will do next. Keth'ren rocks back and forth on his heels, watching October and the humans around him quite curiously, his hands firmly behind his back in a 'do not touch' sort of manner. "Pep-purr-oh-ni." He murmurs thoughtfully, looking at the salad bar with a faint frown of curiosity, before looking back to the people behind the counter. He doesn't bother speaking, since no one but October can understand him, merely smiling and radiating an aura of good cheer and excitement. Once the order's made, October takes the plastic number and goes to sit at a booth. He motions for Keth to follow, sliding into the seat, and sets the number down in plain view of the register. |"Well, what do you think? Does this place have anyone who seems... the right sort of disposition?"| He pauses, pointing to the waiter who's serving a couple their pizza. |"Perhaps him? I admit, I am not the best judge of such things, but his emotional state suggests a certain... openness?"| Speaking softly, Keth'ren replies in ancient Norse. At least it won't get as many weird looks as Tamaranean, right? "«To be sure, I am unsure of the human state of mindfulness in the society of humanity and those who associate with it...»" Er. Wait. He frowns, switching to Tamaranean. "«I am unsure, I have never wished to initiate physical contact with a human before, other than the mighty Thor.»" Grimacing a bit, October admits, |"Though I have often been curious, I have also neither pursued a human that way. I suppose you could... attempt getting close and see how he reacts?"| Why are there not manuals on this? In all his travels, this is the oddest linguistic experience October recalls having. Keth'ren shrugs absently, rising from his seat after a few moments of consideration to approach the young server with a smile, blue eyes large and guileless. He waves, which is odd at close range, but not... Well, he must have seen a human do it recently. Keth glances back to October once, as if to gauge the human's reaction against his fellow alien's. The server smiles at Keth, looking a little confused, and offers a polite smile. "Oh, um, hi! I don't thin your pizza's ready yet, sir." He pauses, though, fiddling a bit with the edge of his apron, and then asks almost shyly, "Are you... a mutant or something? You... you have a really COOL look, man." He might even be blushing a little. When October is glanced at, he gives a mild shrug and nods slightly. It seems to be going well enough to him, but he's never dated a human before. Keth'ren's brow furrows as his head tilts slightly. He clearly doesn't understand the human's speech, but the body language... Yeah, he's probably not understanding too much of that, either. He smiles, still, then is suddenly kissing the human male, hands in his hair, pulling him closer. Probably going to get thrown out, because, well, sexual harassment of an employee, but Keth's not using his considerable strength to hold the young man in place, either. Because that would be rude. Well, the waiter seems more shocked than really upset. He even ends up kissing back, just a little, because apparently he swings enough of whatever way that could be described as Keth'ren to consider this acceptable. However, soon enough there's a manager making his way to the front, shouting his disapproval. "You punks get out of here right now! This isn't a damn strip joint!" October steps over to lightly tap Keth on the shoulder, nodding, and then nods to the manager. "Our apologies." And he steps back outside. The Tamaranean pulls away from the human with a nervous smile, catching the young man's gaze. "Most apolegetic am I. Many thanks for the language-gifting you have retrieved to myself. Please to accept my sincere-most-ness and to be not mad at this personage." His brow furrows a bit, and then he shrugs. Close enough! To the manager, Keth'ren repeats the apology, before waving to the pizza boy with a smile and literally floating from the room. The pizza boy, whose name tag reads "Jack," waves at the departing Keth'ren and mumbles dazedly, "C-call me?" Then, of course, the manager shouts his name, and poor Jack flinches and scurries back to work. Category:Log